leaden snowflakes and tiny dogs in t-shirts

Hello my dedicated followers,

And so passes another week of my life in Mexico… of course, if we’re going by American standards, 7 24-hour periods have passed since the last blog, but only about 1/3 of the actual events or activities that would normally take place during that time period have actually come to fruition. This is what is charmingly referred to by all of those not forced to live with it as “Mexican Time.” For those of us who are forced to operate in a time zone that is perpetually late and behind schedule, it’s called an annoyance. That sounded uncharacteristically bitter (what? I’m not bitter, shut up.) and I don’t actually mean to sound that way. I am learning to live with Mexican Time and have even began to plan around it and assume a 2 hour delay in everything except the beginning of my classes and the movie theaters. A curious fact: everything is late or behind schedules, but most schools start at 7am… and if you’re late, you’re not allowed for the day. So you can call me late, apparently, just not late to school.

This week Pako had a brain surge and decided that, as he is STILL waiting for his teaching license and degree to be set free from his University in Acapulco and thus can’t even apply for a job as a waiter (to process your degree they require the ORIGINAL copies of your graduation certificates from ALL schools, starting with kindergarten), he should repaint our apartment. Well, in theory, this was a good idea. He’s not working and the apartment really would benefit from a fresh coat of paint. Why not?

I will tell you why not. Why not because he doesn’t know about taping windows or corners and doesn’t want to move anything, he just wants to drape old sheets over things that have been slightly shifted away from the wall. At first, I went calmly and quietly along with this plan figuring that he would eventually stumble upon the fact that this technique would lead to paint-stained possessions and more work for him (and me). I was wrong. He did not so much stumble upon that idea on his own as I had push him full force into it! This surge of aggression on my part was due to an episode in the kitchen, which I will now relate to you in great detail.

The kitchen ceiling was painted with oil paint by the previous resident (Pako’s aunt) which is now peeling and flaking. Pako wanted to scrape the paint off (with a hand held scraper tool and nothing else) and then paint over whatever he couldn’t remove. So far not so crazy. Well, he and his mother, God love her, assess the situation and decide that rather than moving everything, holding a sheet over our heads and under Pako (who will be balanced on the top rung of a ladder-see picture) to catch all of the falling flakes and debris will suffice. So, from my lesson planning (ok, email writing, whatever, I was using my computer and nobody can prove I wasn’t working) I am summoned to hold a sheet over my pots, pans and various foodstuffs. Being a good pseudo-wife and daughter-in-law, I oblige, shaking my head as I go. Needless to say, as the probably lead filled paint chips and dust are wafting past the sure-fire sheet and settling on to my kitchenware, those around me start to see the error of their ways. Pako goes so far as to comment that it’s snowing in our kitchen. Hilarious.

This type of logic has been applied to the entire apartment-painting process (or fiasco, which is my preferred word choice) and I now have half a brightly colored, freshly painted apartment with a newly speckled floor and furniture. I spent quite a bit of time scrubbing the bathroom sink as no one (Pako) didn’t think it necessary to cover, so that’s mostly yellow with some blue droplets here and there for character. The living room/dining room, kitchen and bathroom have been completed leaving the bedrooms. I’m nervous as to when my bedroom will be painted because we all know that I will have a first-class hissy-fit if my clothes or shoes should become Robin’s egg blue polka-dotted! I have been planning for the painting of the bedroom however and slowly stashing my things out of site, trying to avoid the fates of the living room and kitchen. Keep your fingers crossed and should you happen to see blue spots on my clothes in pictures or when I come home, kindly do not mention in.

I have given and graded the first exams for my high school classes. Not so bad. I thought they were going to be really easy, but after all the calculations (which were done by hand as I’m not terribly proficient with EXCEL and couldn’t get it to quit auto-correcting my entries to the current date), I got some pretty even bell curves with one classes’ average being 77 and the other’s being 84. Only 2 people of the 26 students are failing! Score! Not that any of that is really due to me and my efforts, but still, it’s no fun to fail students, especially when they’re jolly and amusing in class.

I’m really starting to like my 6th grade class a lot! And, luckily, they’re warming up to me too! All it took was me dancing around like a lunatic and singing a couple of times and now I’ve got them creating sentences and doing their homework out of the palm of my hand! Not really, but they’re a lot more willing to work for me than they were, that’s for sure! Now if only I could get my 7th graders on board… No offense to any of you 7th graders or parents of 7th graders out there, but damn, I do not like that class! There are a few that are fun, a couple that are tolerable, but the vast majority me caen gordos! (That is a charming phrase in Spanish that literally means ‘they fall fat on me,’ but translates to ‘they bother me’). I would normally hesitate to say that about a class, but the teacher who had them last year is the one who said it to me and I found it a quite accurate description of how I was feeling. I’m putting a lot of work into planning for that class to make it more relevant and interesting for them, but they’re not taking the bait and that is starting to piss me off. I find myself mentally giving them worksheets and telling them to shut it and get to work, but the kind and compassionate teacher in me (haha) won’t let me do it. On Monday (which is when I will post this… so ‘today’) we’re talking about celebrities. What 7th grader doesn’t like to talk about celebrities? They’re all pop-culture junkies and I spent some of my hard earned pesos on a gossip magazine so that we have visuals to prompt our discussion should it falter. I hope it goes well, but I can’t say I’m all that optimistic.

Saturday night was an uncle’s birthday so we went over to eat a lot of food and have some cake. Apparently you’re not exempt from getting your face smashed into your birthday cake even well into your 60s. I didn’t know until now, but those of you with June or July birthdays that I will be present for, watch out! No one’s safe, not even those pushing ‘old’ people status! There seems to be a tradition of making at least two main dishes. Last weekend in Lazaro we had Pozole and BBQed beef; this weekend there was Chicken and Pozole. And let me tell you, if you do not take part in both dishes, people wonder why and then commence speculating whether you are on a diet and if not, whether you should be. Then there area always some kind of chips or snacky things. Then there’s cake. For those of you whose memory is already fading, I always have room for cake. Always. This tendency often results in a stomachache, as it did on Saturday night, but you’re crazy if you think I’m missing out on cake!

Sunday was a day of football (they aired the Viqueens game, but who wants to watch that? I hear they have some over the hill sell-out as a quarterback… ) and I went to watch the 2nd half of the Packer game at La Perla with my future hubby or fhubby if you went to Madison with one Ms. Trina Buss. Unfortunately, they were showing the Viqueens game so I was forced to watch that instead... All I can say is only Favre could have pulled off that kind of last second come back and it brought me back to the glory days when he was the only Republican I would have married. Now, not only is he still Republican, but runs around in Purple. All hope is lost. Not to mention my plans to marry someone else in the meantime. While my love for the Green and Gold continues, it’s not nearly as fun to watch without my dad drinking his coke and eating his pretzels while telling me to move so he can fold the laundry. Luckily, I can still here his comments in my mind when someone makes an especially good or bad play or when the refs make or break a call :).

Ok, off to finish lesson planning for the monsters … ahem… I mean my lovely 7th graders… ahem. Super lots of Happy Birthdays to my Dr. friend Karen Wright, who turned 25 on Friday the 25th, meaning that it was her golden birthday. I’m hoping there was Goldschlagger involved. Also, Ms. Jenn Walter, who turned 26 on the 27th, happy birthday to you, too, my badger-mom!

Hasta la próxima semana amiguitos!

Leyah

Ps. Isn’t my dog cute? He gets cold when it rains and the temperature drops to 80 degrees so we put him in his t-shirt… :P This picture is from this morning right before Pako and Teki brought me to school!

Dancing Horses and singing White Girls.

Muy Buenos Dias a todos,

This entry I was going to write about “El Grito,” the traditional Independence Day celebration that takes place on the 15th of September every year, but as I drank some bad coffee and had a stomachache all that night and the following day, I didn’t go. Well, the stomachache and the fact that there had been a shootout between Narcos (people involved with the drug cartels) and the police the night before. That also contributed to Pako and I not going. Bush thought he started a “war on drugs,” cough total failure cough cough? Well, this is a war, that is for sure. Our night time activities are suspended for awhile, but don’t despair, I didn’t really want to see any of my students drunkenly screaming ‘Viva Mexico!’ Hearing them talk about it on Thursday was enough. Anywho, Pako and I watched the fireworks from our balcony, which was super cool and Louise would have oohed and aahed her heart out, and then we watched the parade on TV. All in all, I didn’t really get to experience the grito, but as I’m told it happens every year with some regularity, I’m not too upset.

I was excited to leave school for the weekend as I give a (mandatory, not my choice) quiz on irregular verbs to all of my classes every Friday and inevitably at least one student in each class will ask me what the quiz is about, despite a week’s worth of warm ups and practice with those specific five verbs (this week’s were: come, cost, cut, dig, do). These questions consistently give me the urge to smack someone so Friday afternoons are always somewhat triumphant as I haven’t hit anyone (thus far). At home I rested, did some grading (nerdy, I know) and Pako and I watched City of God, which is an amazing, but unpleasant account of events that took place in the slums of Rio de Janeiro. Then, to pick ourselves up we went to walk Tekila in a park in Ixtapa and saw two of my students on the way to a bar. This is karma, I tell you! I never went to bars in high school (not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t get in), but I wasn’t exactly a teetotaler and now karma is repaying me in kind. Let me tell you, it is very bizarre to see your 15 year old students heading into a bar and being the only one freaked out. Tekila enjoyed his walk in the park, at least.

Then on Saturday, the family packed up and drove to Lazaro Cardenas, Michoacan, an industrial city about an hour and a half away from Zihua for Pako’s dad, Eliseo’s, and his two brother’s birthday celebration. Michoacan is run by La Familia, an evangelical Christian drug cartel who won’t kill you unless you get in the way of their selling drugs… yep. Anywho, the military presence on the way to Lazaro (important Mexican president after the Mexican Revolution, google him) was heavy and we were stopped and the car searched at the border of Guerrero (my state) and Michoacan, on the Guerrero side, presumably to stop drugs from entering or leaving the state. Also, saw a dead burro on the side of the road reminiscent of a deer on the side of a two way freeway in rural Wisconsin. That was sad, and odd.

The party was a dinner for about 15 people and there was pozole, tamales and carne asada as well as chips and salsa, empanadas, cacahuates japoneses (thought of you, dad!) and cake. Then there were about 17 two-liters of Coke, diet Coke, Fanta and eSprite (say it out loud and you will sound like my in-laws), copious amounts of beer and Tequila. We didn’t go hungry. There was also a time when someone pulled out a guitar and the men started singing corridos and boleros (traditional Mexican songs, google them). Then at one point, when everyone was slightly enebriated, they started chanting “sing, white girl, sing” (canta, guera, canta). So I obliged and sang them Jingle Bells. It was not embarrassing in the least…

At one point we went to pick up a cousin from a basketball final (they won by one point… the playing made me want to start my own basketball team in Zihua so we could wup everyone else’s butt… that means they were bad) and on the soccer field next to the bball court there as a mini-rodeo where they were “bailando caballos.” For you non-Spanish speakers, that means they were dancing horses. This is something I had never seen before and found quite amusing. Mariachis play and the rider makes the horse quick-step… here’s a youtube video (not of what I saw, but similar) so you can get the idea… The whole experience felt very authentic and surreal.

Sunday morning we came home early, undisturbed by the military, and I went to La Perla to watch the 2nd half of the Packers’ game… The last minute was exciting, but without the outcome I was hoping for… oh well, it’s only week 2. Keep your fingers crossed that Clifton is back next week and our offensive line can regroup. They stream a Canadian channel and it was really off-putting to watch tv broadcasts in English again, I felt slightly disoriented. Saw the owner, met his mother and talked to my favorite bartender. I’ve reserved a good table for my father and I on Superbowl Sunday. Now if only we could arrange for the Packers to also be present that day, it would be perfect!

This evening will consist of planning for one of my classes (the other 3 are already prepared) and watching a movie that didn’t make much noise in the US shockingly enough. It’s called “A Day Without Mexicans” and it is a simulation of what would happen in the US if all of the Mexicans disappeared. I’d heard it was funny, but didn’t get the chance to see it when it debuted in the States. This week I’m giving the first exam to my two high school classes… wish me luck! Wednesday and Thursday are oral exams and the written is on Friday. Should be fun. Might take off the next Friday to go with Pako and Petra to Acapulco for the weekend. Pako will finally (hopefully) get his license and papers from his school and Petra will visit her mother. I will visit the mall and compare it disparagingly to the Mall of America, which, in my extended absence, I have put on a pedestal, not to be topped by any mall, anywhere. That trip is still just a “plan,” which, in Mexico, means that it is just as likely to happen as not happen.

Ok, until next week, I’m off to laze about for a few more hours. I suggest you all do the same. Happy birthday to Karen Wright and Jen Walter who turn older on the 25th and 27th respectively. Eat some cake for me! On second thought, maybe I will buy a cake and eat it for you… I’m quickly becoming obsessed with any food that is reminiscent of what I may have eaten at some point in the past in the States. Toodleloooooooooooooooooo kids!

besos and abrazos!

Leyah

PS. Here's me making a tortilla by hand... look at me learning how to be a Mexican housewife!

Bolillo? Agua Tropical?? FISH???

Ahhh good morning Blog readers!
I am sitting, writing to you at the ungodly hour of 8:48am. Now, you might be saying to yourself, ‘that’s not so early,’ but you would be wrong. The fact is, I am a night person and on the weekends, do not go to bed until well after midnight. I believe I went to bed around 3 on Friday night and 1 last night. Additionally, as it is hot slightly warm here at times (and by that I mean all times), I drink a lot of water and thus have to use the bathroom 19 times a night, which gets in the way of quality sleep. Why, then, you might ask, in blazes am I up so early writing a blog? I will tell you.

In my apartment complex there is a phenomenon that I originally thought was charming and convenient. People walk around the different apartment buildings calling out what they are selling and if you should desire their product of the day, all you need to do is stick your head our of your window or over the balcony and yell your order down. Most vendors even bring your purchase right up to you, a very attractive marketing ploy for those of us who live on the 5th floor at the top of a hill! Well, it was charming and convenient until I encountered the ‘bolillo’ boy. For those of you who don’t know, a bolillo is a Mexican bun, often served warm and fill with some sort of delicious concoction. They go great with coffee. Which means they are sold in the morning. Early morning. Which means that, every day, without fail, the bolillo boy is outside of my apartment building yelling “BO-LI-LLOS” with alarming frequency and a voice that carries right into my window. On days when I am set to wake up at 7, it is a mere annoyance and I roll my eyes and roll out of bed. On Saturday and Sunday mornings, particularly when I have only been asleep for 4-5 hours, I’m not so thrilled with bolillo boy, as is the case this morning. But, such is life in Mexico and here I am, writing you this note.

Different vendors come at different points throughout the day and you get to know their schedules. For example, I can tell time by the “Donas y Empanadas” girl (4:15pm in front of my building). Also, you get to know your favorite vendors, similar to recognizing your favorite Madison street people, like good old Scanner Dan or Spray Paint guy. I quite enjoy Donas y Empanadas as she’s got the voice of a 50 year old smoker and has a nice song-like quality to her call. Agua Santorini guy used to be my favorite and I will imitate him for you upon request, but he must have been transferred to a different route because his replacement’s yell isn’t nearly as amusing. There is also Agua Tropical, Agua Hidropura, Agua Herendera (water is important here – it sure is nice that they’ll lug those huge jugs up my 5 flights of stairs though, no complaints there!), pescado (fish) guy, afternoon bolillo boy (not nearly as nerve grating as morning bolillo boy) and various other vendors whose calls sometimes Pako can’t even interpret!

I had to spend my weekend writing the first 2 exams for my 2 middle school classes, resulting in a long Saturday with Fantastic 6 by MacMillan and Touchstone 1 by Cambridge, not my two favorite companions. Compound that with the fact that Bolillo boy was non-Mexicanly punctual that morning and you can imagine my Saturday. Luckily, it’s now 9:05 Sunday morning and I have already proof-read my exams and am satisfied with them. That also means that I have made rough plans for both of those classes all the way through December! I pushed myself so hard yesterday so that I would be free to watch FOOTBALL today!!! OH THANK GOD FOR AMERICAN FOOTBALL SEASON! (My friend Vivi is smiling and shaking her head right now, asking herself how we can be such good friends). The Viqueens game with some guy named Favre is actually being aired here, so I’ll watch bits and pieces of that and then will head to a sports bar in town to watch my beloved Packers be lead to victory by studly Aaron Rodgers and a newly vamped up defense! I’d like to reiterate OH THANK GOD FOR AMERICAN FOOTBALL!

This week is a four-day school week as Mexican Independence day (Sept 16) falls on Wednesday. Woo hooo! Four day weeks are excellent!!! On Tuesday night there is a festival called “El Grito” (the shout/yell for you non-Spanish speakers) when people get all wound up and yell “Viva Mexico” a lot. It represents that one time that this priest-guy named Miguel Hidalgo gathered all these peasants and decided to march on Mexico city, declaring the end of Spanish reign in Mexico and eventually leading to the Mexican Revolution. Or something historical like that. (Just for everyone’s information, I actually know quite a lot about the history of the day and if you should like a more detailed and accurate account of that days events and consequences, don’t hesitate to ask). Anywho, this means that next blog will probably have some Green, White and Red pictures for you and a detailed description of how loud I yelled and what I ate :)

Ok, I’m off to make some coffee (discovered a tiny hole in the wall coffee shop that grinds the beans as you wait and makes up special blends according to what you look like – apparently I look delicious – and when I say discovered, I mean Pako took me there) and have a bolillo (just kidding). Then I’m going to curl up with my creepy book about fundamentalist Mormons in Utah. Ahh Sunday morning!

Weird, someone just started blasting Billy Joel’s Piano Man in Spanish… I keep trying to sing along and keep getting confused as the lyrics that I know by heart two times over are not the ones that are being sung… “un viejo sentado a mi lado, tragando su tonic y giniebra” (an old man sitting next to me, etc, etc).

Until next week, happy sleeping in on the weekends and Viva Mexico!
Saludos y besotes!
Leyah

PS. yesterday I made my first tortilla by hand! Picture next week!

Isn´t it ironic?

Hello Loyal Blog Readers,

Today will be a short update as I have been stricken with a cold (ironic, I know) and don’t have much ganas (that is an untranslatable word meaning something like I don’t have the urge/don’t feel like) of writing. Who gets a cold in 90-degree weather, I ask you? Well, turns out, quite a lot of people and it is going around my school hence I now have a runny nose and a sore throat. I don’t know what’s worse, the sore throat or the irony of my current situation. I think probably the irony, although tomorrow will be interesting if I have no voice with which to yell at my middle-schoolers.

My boss gave me quite a scare this week and then some good news. First, she told me that the high school classes would be taking a national exam of which she didn’t have a copy or a past example, also, she didn’t know when it would be administered or if I would get to see it before I had to give it to my students. Having been teaching from a book and working under the assumption that I would be able to create the assessment (which I did, last weekend), I had a series of mini-heart attacks. If you’re not a teacher, the gravity of such a situation might not hit you, but suffice it to say that changing an assessment after 5 weeks of instruction that has been geared towards a certain book/assessment is not even slightly good practice and TOTALLY unfair to the students. So Jeanne, my boss, gets this message from the AP of the school, Ricardo, who is lovable, but horribly unorganized, and passes it along to me as I’m walking up to my high school class. I go up to class, get them started on something and then head directly to the office to confront Ricardo. Turns out, it was all a big misunderstanding because Jeanne doesn’t speak much Spanish and Ricardo doesn’t speak much English… I get to give my assessment (that took me forever to write, I damn well better be able to use it!) and class can continue as planned. Phew. The good news given by Jeanne is minimal, really, but I asked her if I could wear black bottoms as well as navy blue and she said that as long as I did my job, she didn’t care what I wore! Small victories people, small victories!

Aaah, my Halls cough drops just arrived via my nephew. Excellent.

Mexico played Costa Rica yesterday evening and won 3-0. We’re on our way to the World Cup if we can manage to beat Honduras (Blanca…) this Wednesday… then we (and by we, I mean Mexico… if the US soccer team was behind Mexico then I would be routing for them, but since they’re ahead of Mexico in the points race, I’m for Mexico) play 2 teams that will be out of contention for the Cup… I’m learning the soccer system, which I still maintain is much more stupid and convoluted than the football or baseball systems of the US, but for some reason Pako disagrees. We had a lively discussion over which sport was more interesting, American football or soccer… Really? Who could possibly think soccer was more interesting? Pako’s argument was that they stop playing too often in football, my argument was that you could go 90 minutes straight without a single goal. And the only reason they say “goaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal” when someone does finally manage to score is to drag out those 30 seconds of excitement that come to pass once, if you’re lucky, or twice if you’re really, really lucky throughout a game. We agreed to disagree, but we both knew I was right.

Ok, this is longer than I intended it to be because I honestly can’t believe anyone would prefer soccer over football and I had to get that off my chest. Football season starts for me next Sunday and I’ll be sitting in a sports bar watching my Packers start down the path towards the Superbowl! Ahhh football season, my favorite season of the year! This week’s picture is of a sea turtle we saw on the beach. It was about 4 times bigger than Tekila (my dog) and 100 times braver. When Tekila saw the turtle, he turned tail and ran the other way.

Signing out again, hoping to recover my voice and energy by tomorrow at 8:30am. Saludos to all and unless you’re Blanca, keep your fingers crossed that Mexico beats Honduras on Wednesday!

amor y besos!

Leyah